Trade Show Ecologue (Jan. 20, 2005)

32 floors up and the view
is still just of the Dallas-
Ft. Worth Airport, too brilliant
to look at with this migraine
and all concrete miasma
anyway, miles of runways
and highways blotted
with these leviathans
of hotel accommodation --
I can see another Hyatt
a mile from here -- Not
much of you as far as
the eye can see but this
is business, right? And
business is good, for my
company and for my real
love back at home who just
wants me to get done soon
and return safe. So I shower
soon & dress my biz best
& head down to the trade
show with the rest of
the prospectors panning
for the brightest measure
of you. Up here in the rooms
there are x-rated flicks
on the movie channel
where the view of you
is all a burning dark
blue, lucent with the mystery
of how a woman’s body
is like the whale below
the wake of everything,
charging between the
shores I walk. Stuck here
for this while I write,
of neither world composed,
suffering like everyone else
where sands are ripped
by tidal roar. I want to be
home too, but first I must
do my daily job. How did
this migraine manage
to roar into such loud flight?
Why now? Why does
it all have to be so hard?
Yet how could I ever
have come to believe
in you so if the beds
were still easy? Ah well--
time to get my show
on the road. May my
mouth net mammon
the way its gills you.